Border Ballads; with an Introductory Essay

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Lawrence and Ballen, 1895 - 87 sider
 

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Side 3 - Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie." 0 they rade on, and farther on, And they waded through rivers aboon the knee, And they saw neither sun nor moon, But they heard the roaring of the sea. It was mirk, mirk night, and there was nae stern light, And they waded through red blude to the knee, For a' the blude, that's shed on earth, Rins through the springs o
Side 59 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms Burd Helen dropt, And died to succour me ! 0 think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak' nae mair ! There did she swoon wi' meikle care, On fair Kirconnell lea.
Side 18 - Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
Side 78 - ... a drink Of the spring that ran sae clear, And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood, And sair she gan to fear. "Hold up, hold up, Lord William...
Side 41 - O whaten a mountain is yon," she said, " All so dreary wi' frost and snow? " " O yon is the mountain of hell," he cried,
Side 61 - Wi ae lock o his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. "Mony a one for him makes mane, But nane sail ken where he is gane; Oer his white banes when they are bare, The wind sail blaw for evermair.
Side 59 - I'll make a garland of thy hair, Shall bind my heart for evermair, Until the day I die. O that I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, 'Haste, and come to me!
Side 1 - Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hung fifty siller bells and nine. True Thomas, he...
Side 69 - O see ye not, my merry men a', 0 see ye not what I see? Methinks I see a host of men; I marvel who they be." She ween'd it had been her lovely lord, As he cam' riding hame; It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon, Wha reck'd nor sin nor shame.
Side 3 - For a' the blude that's shed on earth Rins through the springs o' that countrie. Syne they came on to a garden green, And she pu'd an apple frae a tree — * ' Take this for thy wages, true Thomas ; It will give thee the tongue that can never lie.' 'My tongue is mine ain,' true Thomas said; 'A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!

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